


Never Know The Difference

by stpitbull



Category: Fallout: New Vegas
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-03-29
Updated: 2012-03-29
Packaged: 2017-11-02 17:06:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 830
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/371353
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stpitbull/pseuds/stpitbull





	Never Know The Difference

"Daylight soon," the kid said, kicking sand on the fire. "We oughtta head out."   
  
Raul nodded once, standing and shifting his rucksack onto his back, watching the kid stretch and crack his knuckles, a dark silhouette melding into the desert horizon against the hazy blue twilight of the Mojave sky. The kid checked his map quickly, then nodded in a direction and they set off.   
  
Raul wondered plenty of times why Sandy always kept picking him as his travel companion even after they'd had that horrible, awful conversation. The sniper had to be a hell of a lot more useful in combat. The girl in the robes was a lot chattier. Hell, even the doc would be more useful, not to mention he may be able to take care of some of those more specific problems the kid was having.   
  
He only made the mistake of asking Sandy about it once, while they were on the particularly long stretch of road between Nipton and Novac. The kid shrugged, keeping his eyes on the road. "I like being around you," he answered in that soft voice of his. "That doesn't suddenly change just 'cause I can't be with you."   
  
Raul had shoved away the twist of guilt in his stomach, and they walked on.

 

  
  
Some small, logical part of himself said that he should have seen the warning signs, but the truth was it had just been so long since he figured he'd had any  _reason_ to notice warning signs. But when he reflected, the kid's confession hadn't seem quite so out of fucking nowhere. The way the kid would listen to his stories with a fully rapt expression, asking him to talk about even the most insignificant old memory. How he'd shirk nights out drinking and gambling with his smoothskin companions in favor of the odd Spanish lesson while he and Raul used geckos as target practice. That time the kid got in a staring match with the floor when he asked Raul for a few pointers on shooting, the way his breath hitched every time Raul got behind him to adjust his posture.   
  
Okay, that last one should have been  _really_  obvious. He'd took it for apprehension. He just thought it was a ghoul thing.   
  
He'd tried to suggest the other thing was just a ghoul thing too, trying to joke his way out of the cripplingly awkward confrontation. "I don't have a thing for ghouls," Sandy had said, wringing his hands like he was trying to pull off his fingers and staring at the ground. "Just you. It's just... you."   
  
He supposed any other ghoul would have taken advantage of the opportunity. It wasn't like conquests were lining up to be with him. And he didn't have to be into men to see the kid was attractive -- even if he couldn't see himself, the way Sandy could wrap anyone around his finger with a few words would make it clear. He was tall and broad-shoulder, with a proud jaw and loose chocolate brown curls that always got in his face. He had big, expressive eyes that tried so, so hard to hide the way his heart was shattering as he said, "I understand. I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable, I just... Forget about it. Let's move on."   
  
Anyone else, ghoul or no, would have probably taken advantage of the opportunity. But Raul couldn't. Couldn't do that to Sandy. He didn't have to have feelings for him to respect him. And the kid didn't seem like the type to use the word "love" without meaning it.   
  
  
  
Another day done, as dark blue chased away the red and orange in the sky and the stars began sparkling. Another campfire, Sandy grilling up some steaks, Raul making sure all their guns were well-oiled and in good condition. They split a bottle of Sandy's homebrewed tequila with dinner, Sandy listening attentively to one of Raul's old stories, laughing softly at his old adventures. He told Sandy about the constellations, about how everyone used to know their names. Sandy huddled closer to him as he pointed out the ones he remembered. He was pointing out the Pleiades, or "the seven vaqueros who ate onions", when he realized Sandy was leaning against him, resting his head against his shoulder. He stopped for a beat, before saying, "Ah, kid--"   
  
"I know," Sandy barely said, his voice so quiet Raul doubted he'd have been able to hear it if not for the stillness of the night desert. "I know, just... give me a second."   
  
He felt a fist close around his heart as Sandy took a deep, shaky breath before pulling away, sitting up and saying, "Probably time to hit the hay." He dimmed the fire with a handful of sand and returned to his bedroll, curling up without another word. Raul just watched him silently, wishing that for all his little words, he had a way to tell the kid he was honestly sorry.


End file.
